


i will wait

by spacelamps



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (tagging that bc i havent uploaded a fic yet that doesnt?? reference it oopsie), 11/20, Akechi Goro Lives, Akeshu Week 2020, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Alternate Universe - Roleswap, Angst, Bad End AU, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, November 20 Interrogation (Persona 5), Persona 5 Protagonist is from Inaba, Post-November 20 Interrogation (Persona 5), Shuake Week 2020, a GOOD chunk of these are gonna have angst in some form or fashion aha <3, can i legally tag that. looks at day three. can i legally tag that., other characters to be added if they hold importance!, pthieves are all at least mentioned, tags updated as each prompt gets posted, yaldy is alluded to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27588374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacelamps/pseuds/spacelamps
Summary: "and i fell heavy into your armsthese days of dustwhich we've knownwill blow away with this new sun"——drabbles + one-shots for shuake/akeshu week!note: on pause until i either finish the semester or manage to have enough time to write. i haven't forgotten about this!!
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28





	1. prompts + notes!

**Author's Note:**

> cackles hello everyone!! this is my first time attempting to do something like this and i'm writing all of these the week of because i  
> a) forgot it was happening!!  
> b) i'm a uni student bold of you to assume i have any brain cells
> 
> anyway if specific days/prompts need tw's i will include them in the starting notes; not gonna include a bunch of tags until i post the oneshot/drabble for the day :')

**prompts!**

**day one //** **** hope \- stars \- ~~fantasy~~ // **_compass_**

> _the two times akira drags goro out to see the stars._

**day two //** corruption \- masks \- games // **_ready to_**

> _it's not right, whatever's going on. goro may not know what it is, but he knows that something is wrong._

**day three //** roleswap \- ~~chocolate~~ \- comfort // **_little dark age_**

> _mementos has never been kind to people like him, and he deserves it. it's never been safe for him to open up, to find comfort in other people (because relationships are flimsy and fallible and superficial and useless and), but maybe it would be okay to find comfort in someone else just this once._

**day four //** ~~festivals~~ \- ~~vacations~~ \- seasons // **_name_ **

> _seasons change, time continues to pass, but goro akechi will always mean something to akira kurusu._

**day five //** opposites - home - outfits // **_name_**

> _summary_

**day six //** sins - partnerships - per aspera ad astra (“through hardships to the stars”) // **_name_ **

> _summary_

**day seven //** soulmates - nightmares - free day // **_name_**

> _summary_

**notes!**

prompt list from [here](https://twitter.com/shuakeweek/status/1287776682116616192?s=20)! summaries & names to be updated whenever the oneshot/drabble for the day gets posted <3

reminder that all titles are based off song names that i think are fitting and that appropriate lyrics will be in the end notes!

second reminder: i will also be adding tw tags to each fic's notes when they're posted if they're specific for that chapter only and will always add tags i missed something!


	2. compass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the two times akira drags goro out to see the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: hope & stars! hope is.. kinda there but it's something i probably wasn't able to write in as well as i could have.
> 
> sorry for posting this a day late! google docs wouldn't sync to my phone and i was helping a friend with her homework at her apartment. also i... did my best writing fluff it's not my strong suit 👉🏻👈🏻
> 
> tw //  
> mentions/references to 11/20

“Have you ever been to the planetarium?”

Goro pauses, glancing up from where he was setting up the chess board. “Sorry?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, wondering what on earth Kurusu had just said.

The boy turns around from the sink and watches him with a carefully crafted face that, strangely, showed no curiosity—or much of an emotion at all.

“Have you ever been to the planetarium?” he repeats, careful in setting the rag on the edge of the sink. 

Goro frowns, studying the other curiously. Why on earth would he care? (he’s not thinking this to avoid thinking about how the last time he did something like this was when he was still in the foster care system and it’d ended up as a total disaster because he’d somehow gotten separated from his class, not at all.)

“Can’t say I haven’t been in a while,” he says, instead of admitting that he’d gotten lost the last time he’d gone. (he still thinks that the classmates he was walking around with ditched him on purpose—frankly, he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.) 

Kurusu doesn’t say anything to that, only quietly nodding in response, and Goro raises an eyebrow.

“Why do you ask?” he asks, figuring that if the conversation were to go anywhere, he’d have to prompt it. He keeps his eyes on Kurusu, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the bar and his chin in his palm. His free hand subconsciously picks a chess piece at random and begins dancing it around his fingers, turning it in place on the chessboard.

“I, uh-” He hesitates a moment, stumbling over his own words, “went with Yusuke earlier this week.” Of _course_ he did, so _what_ , why was he- “And it seems like you could probably use a break.”

Oh.

He blinks, pausing once more as his gaze shifts between the chess piece he’s been dancing around between his fingers to peer up at Kurusu, who had awkwardly looked away. (he’s pretty sure that kurusu keeps glancing over at him, eyes flickering around leblanc trying to appear like he doesn’t care about goro’s answer, and, well…)

He can’t believe he’s doing this.

(yes, he can)

“Very well then,” he says, standing from his seat at the bar. (a shame, he really wanted to play a round or two of chess. maybe next time.)

Kurusu straightens up in surprise, blinking owlishly behind his stupidly _fake_ glasses before his face eases into an easy grin.

“Yeah, alright. Just gimme a sec.”

——

“So what brought about the sudden urge to see the planetarium?” Goro asks, shifting his briefcase to the opposite hand. “Especially since it seems you came here earlier in the week?”

“What?” Kurusu asks, looking over at Goro with a slightly amused expression. He looks more relaxed now, Goro notes quietly. “You mean me saying that you need a break isn’t a good enough reason?”

Goro fixes his rival with a flat stare, which earns him a quiet laugh and- oh?

Kurusu fidgets with his hair—a nervous tick Goro had noticed a while back when they’d first started getting… closer—and looks off to the side. He seems quieter, smaller.

“I’ll… tell you later?” he says quietly, the shine of the overhead lights catching his glasses and blocking his eyes from Goro’s view.

He wishes now, more than ever, that Kurusu was easier to read.

“I’ll keep you to that,” he says instead. “Now then, what-”

An overhead announcement pings loudly, crackling to life, and Kurusu’s posture loosens immediately, brightening.

“C’mon,” he says, almost sounding excited. He grabs Goro’s hand (and ignores Goro’s startled squeak of surprise, to which he’d vehemently deny til his last breath) and races off, heading to the viewing area.

It isn’t until halfway through the showing does Goro realize that Kurusu never let go of his hand.

——

“So?” Kurusu asks, walking out of the showing next to Goro. Their hands brush against each other every so often, but the other makes no move to grab his hand again.

Goro isn’t sure if he wants him to or not.

“I think you owe me an explanation,” Goro says lightly, instead of admitting that it was nice to take a break from his work and that having good memories associated with the planetarium instead of getting left behind like always. 

Kurusu stares at him for a moment before childishly pouting, looking down in the opposite direction.

“That’s not an answer, Kurusu-kun,” Goro says cheekily, just to be a little shit.

“You didn’t answer my question either, Akechi-kun,” Kurusu responds back, just as cheekily, equally as a little shit as him.

Suddenly, all his feelings about the day are gone. He can’t wait to put a bullet in his skull.

Kurusu sighs, looking away from Goro’s saccharine expression. “It, uh… reminds me of home,” he finally admits.

Goro raises an eyebrow, mumbling a quiet “Oh?” as Kurusu continues.

“I don’t… really _view_ Inaba as home anymore,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now that I’ve been here, in Tokyo, and met all of you-” Goro absolutely does _not_ feel surprised or touched that he’s included in this list, he’ll deny it until he dies, because Kurusu really _should not be caring for him_ “- I’ve come to love Tokyo more than anything else.”

“But?” Goro asks, feeling as if Kurusu were leaving something unsaid.

“ _But_ ,” Kurusu adds on with a sigh, causing Goro to smirk slightly. He’d been right after all. “I miss being able to see the stars so clearly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “That’s it?” he asks, mildly surprised.

Kurusu shifts minutely, starting to appear embarrassed. 

“Well, I do suppose I see the appeal-”

He’s cut off by Kurusu mumbling something quietly under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” he asks, shifting his weight onto one leg as he studies Kurusu curiously. He wonders, for a moment, if the fool in front of him said what he thinks he had.

He blushes slightly, seemingly embarrassed as he glances down toward the floor. Goro raises an eyebrow, wondering—not for the first time today—whether or not he’d misheard something the other had said. (wonders if he really _wants_ to have misheard the other.)

“I don’t think I quite heard you correctly,” he lies, offering Kurusu a tense smile.

“I, uh…” It really, _really_ wasn’t like Kurusu to be like this, all hesitant on his words and second-guessing himself. (or maybe it was; maybe he was just blending in kurusu’s different personas.)

Kurusu sighs. “I was just… offering that if you wanted to see the real thing one day, then you should, y’know. Come by where I live in the country.”

Goro stares at Kurusu in shock, face falling slack, and he immediately curses himself for ever letting his guard down around him. It feels wrong, being able to say something in response or promise something that he knows he’ll never be able to uphold.

Pitifully, he wishes that things were different. Simpler, even.

(it doesn’t hurt to let kurusu think he has something to hope for in the future, even if neither of them will live to see the next year. even if it's just a shred of false hope. what's one more lie, tacked upon the millions of others he's fabricated over the years?)

Kurusu’s back to staring at him, almost in a studying manner.

Goro sighs, deciding to throw the teen a bone. Let him think that things will be better. Will get better.

The answer he gives almost feels like lead in the back of his throat.

“Alright.”

(on the twentieth of november, he fires a bullet into what he believes is the very real form of akira kurusu, and watches as the only source of potential hope he’d gained for the first time in years flickered out and died in front of him.)

* * *

He really, _really_ can’t believe he’s getting talked into this.

“C’mon!” Akira- and when had he become _Akira?_ \- whispers excitedly, latching onto Goro’s wrist, careful of his parents in the room down the hall and a sleeping Morgana. “It’s dark enough that-”

“We’ll look like two shady individuals,” Goro grumbles, unwilling to leave his spot from the bed. “Especially in your tiny little hick town.”

Akira pouts briefly, stuck between spitting back a remark of _It’s not a tiny little hick town, you ass_ and just simply whacking Goro’s shoulder, but ultimately thinks better of it because, well… yeah. Inaba’s pretty much a tiny little hick town. 

“It’s not _that_ bad,” he protests instead, despite both his and Goro’s knowledge that Akira absolutely _hates_ Inaba and is trying to get back to Tokyo as soon as possible. 

“Whatever you say,” Goro says sweetly, shooting Akira his fake-ass old Detective Prince smile, and Akira pretends to gag.

“Stop that, it’s disgusting.”

“Please, how do you think _I_ feel about it?” Goro fires back, face scrunching up. “I hated pretending to be the _Darling Detective Prince_.” He pitches his voice at the last part and rolls his eyes. “It was horrible.”

Akira hums (in what Goro assumes is agreement) and leans forward, resting his chin on the top of Goro’s head. 

A brief moment of silence passes before Goro caves with a small sigh. Akira’s expression brightens considerably as Goro lightly shoves the other away from him.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

——

After leaving a note for Morgana so that the not-cat wouldn’t freak out at the sudden disappearance of both Akira and Goro, the two finally head off for the Samegawa Floodplain.

_“Why can’t we just stay in your backyard?” Goro had grumbled, wishing he’d at least brought a light jacket._

_“It’s not as good there. Just trust me!”_

Almost immediately upon arrival, Akira flops down onto the ground and reaches up, tugging on Goro’s wrist insistently which earns him a short glare before Goro sits down next to him.

“So… what?” Goro mumbles, blinking languidly. His vision’s gotten decent enough at adjusting to the lack of light, using only the occasional street lights and the moon, but it’s still hard to see.

Next to him, Akira flops down onto his back. “For starters,” Akira says with a tiny huff, lightly whacking Goro’s chest. He ignores the startled look the other shoots him. “You’re _supposed_ to be laying down. Makes it easier to see them without hurting your neck.”

Some half-hearted grumbling later, Goro Akechi is laying on the ground, quietly staring up at the sky.

A moment later, Goro falls silent, staring up at the expanse of dark sky with a relaxed expression.

(he has the feeling that akira’s paying more attention to him than the sky above them, but doesn’t bother to confirm it. it’s too beautiful a sight to look away from, regardless of whatever akira’s doing next to him.)

A moment passes between the two where neither of them speak.

Finally, as if fed up with the silence, Akira shifts slightly and breaks the easy silence the two have.

He hums contently, curling up into the juncture between Goro’s neck and shoulder. “See?” he murmurs, looking up at the sky. “I told you the real thing looked better.”

Goro makes a small noise—of agreement, Akira thinks—but when he looks up he notes the faint dusting of something on Goro’s face, even in the dark, and he laughs quietly.

A gentle silence falls between the two, the only thing disturbing it being the natural sounds of the earth surrounding them—the gentle noise of the water, the light breeze, the crickets and cicadas’ chirping.

(he doesn’t notice akira’s eyes on him, too focused and caught up on the scenery and the view before him. for a brief moment, he wonders how he’s gone his entire life without appreciating something nearly as simple as this.)

“The real thing’s a lot better, isn’t it?” Akira asks, breaking the silence (and, coincidentally, Goro’s concentration).

He blinks, turning his head to face Akira, unsurprised at how the other was already watching him.

“I suppose,” Goro says, which is Goro speak for _Yes, it’s better than whatever the planetarium had to offer._

The two lay there for a while longer, quietly relaxing in each other’s presence while the stars above them shine and twinkle.

_Hope, huh,_ Goro wonders, staring up at the sky in silence. _I guess…_

His thoughts trail off as his gaze falls over, latching onto the silent form of Akira. He can only see the top of his head from where Akira’s made his home on Goro’s shoulder, but… 

“Akira?” No response.

Frowning, Goro shifts over onto his side to note that the boy lying next to him has his eyes closed. Akira’s breathing is slowly evening out, and Goro finds himself sighing in frustration. “You’re asleep, aren’t you?”

No response, but it’s not like he was really _expecting_ one this time.

Goro grumbles something under his breath, angrily nudging Akira. “Get up, you idiot,” he says, propping himself up on an elbow to further shove his fingers into the teen’s chest. “I don’t know the way back to your house and you’re nearly impossible to wake up.”

Akira mumbles some incoherent string of words, groaning a bit when Goro stabbed his chest. “‘M comf’tble,” he whines, curling in on himself as he starts to roll away from the other.

“No, get _back_ here-” Goro snaps, sitting up so he can easier reach over Akira to tug him back and back onto his back. “I’m not falling asleep out here in the grass.”

“Is not _that_ bad-”

“It’s scratchy and cold,” Goro deadpans, keeping a firm hand on Akira’s shoulder to keep him from rolling back over. “Also, I’d rather not wake up in the morning with a cold due to the colder temperatures or the morning dew.”

Aw, Goro was learning about the countryside.

“It’s not _that_ cold out,” Akira murmurs instead.

Goro glares at him.

Akira stares back up at him, gray eyes meeting crimson, and he sighs in defeat.

“Fine,” he mumbles, reaching out to Goro. He wraps his hands around his shoulders and pulls the other down, back onto the ground and onto Akira’s chest. The two of them let out their own startled _oomphs_ —Goro from the shock of Akira pulling him back down and Akira’s from the sudden weight now present on his chest.

“Why’d you-”

“Just a few more minutes,” Akira promises softly, pressing a small kiss on the side of Goro’s forehead. “And then we’ll go back to my parent’s.”

Goro stares at him, almost as if he’s contemplating his next move, before he caves in and sighs, allowing himself to succumb to the comfort of Akira Kurusu.

“Fine.”

And even when he tries to sound angry, Akira only grins and presses a light kiss to his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _you're always there to help me when i'm down_  
>  _i'm lucky you've been keeping me around_  
>  _you're the star i look for every night_  
>  _when it's dark, you'll stick right by my[side](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j56dEcq7ryo)_


	3. ready to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's not right, whatever's going on. goro may not know what it is, but he knows that something is wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: corruption, games, & mask! mask is very very end tho,,
> 
> wheezes sO LOAD-IN TOOK LONGER THAN I THOUGHT hi i work with my uni's production services and WOW this load-in took fucking ages i forgot how long they could be when it wasn't just setting up lights
> 
> anyways shoutout to two of my friends who listened to me fucking scream about this prompt for ages on end (esp while i was trying to figure out which song i was gonna use as the chapter title) and let me send them snippets of it bc i saw this and was bouncing ideas around with one of them and her idea just. spiraled into smth similar to this. so i wrote and finished this before i even touched day one (which is. part of why day one was late!)
> 
> also if enough people like this and i have enough insp left over,,, might write this idea as an actual fic. we'll see!
> 
> anyway!! don't THINK there's any tw's but if i missed anything PLEASE let me know! ty <3

_His eyes widen, attention snapping over to the man- god?- in the middle of the room._

_“You can…?” he asks, ignoring Lavenza’s startled intake and her small step towards him._

_“Trickster you can’t-”_

_“I promise,” the being swears, a twisted look taking over the puppet’s face, hand outstretched._

_He doesn’t hesitate._

——

Light trickles in through the window, illuminating the room. Dust floats aimlessly in the air.

Next to him, something shifts.

“I know you’re awake,” the thing mumbles, huffing air onto his eyes, and he laughs quietly, carefully opening his eyes to avoid the angry glare of the dawn sun. (this does not stop him from blinking harshly a few times to get out any spots of light he sees as he wakes to the sight of goro akechi with narrowed eyes and wearing one of his shirts.)

“Good morning to you too, honey,” he teases, snickering as Goro grumbles something under his breath and tries to pull away, only to be stopped by Akira throwing his leg over his boyfriend’s waist.

“Get off me,” Goro mumbles tiredly, not sounding nearly half as angry as he would were he more awake. “You’re too warm.”

Akira snorts, obliging in moving his leg. Instead of letting his boyfriend get up from the bed, however, he reaches out and gently tangles a few loose strands of Goro’s hair that had fallen over his shoulder during his sleep between his fingers. “Do you have anything you’re doing today?”

Goro half-heartedly swats at his hand, moving it so their fingers were instead interlaced. 

“Don’t you have classes today?” he asks instead of answering.

Akira groans, burying his face into their intertwined hands. “Don’t remind me,” he whines, ignoring Goro’s snort of amusement (that he’d die before ever admitting he did).

“I was thinking about meeting up with some of the others later,” Akira finally says, after a few moments of comfortable-but-tense silence when it looks like Goro’s about to shove Akira out of bed so he can get up and ready for the day. “I think there’s some requests on the Phan-Site we need to take care of.”

Goro stares at him tiredly before sighing. “Great. Text the group chat. Now can you get out of bed before I make you?”

Akira stares at him for a moment longer before immediately whining at the sudden loss of warmth as Goro throws the blanket back. He stares at his boyfriend in defeat as the other cackles at his expression, sitting up in the bed.

(something in the back of akira’s mind tries to remind him that this is wrong, it’s incorrect, but akira _doesn’t care_. he has everything- no, _everyone_ with him. he has everything that he could ever need, and if betraying everything means having goro akechi and the rest of _his_ phantom thieves safe, then it’s worth it. no matter the cost.)

——

Something was wrong.

It’s a mantra that’s been repeating itself in Goro Akechi’s head since Christmas Eve eight months ago.

He wasn’t- isn’t?- supposed to be here, he thinks some nights as he stares up at his ceiling.

He’s not supposed to be alive and breathing, he thinks on nights where he overstays LeBlanc’s open hours, playing chess with an Akira Kurusu. 

Everything just feels off sometimes. 

He really, _really_ doesn’t think he’s supposed to be here.

A blue butterfly lands somewhere in his peripheral vision. He frowns, staring down at the insect as it weakly tries to get back in the air, and he realizes that maybe he isn’t all wrong.

Maybe he isn’t supposed to be here at all.

——

It keeps bothering him. Goro watches how Akira acts sometimes in the Metaverse, completely avoidant of the weird blue, glowing door in the corner of Mementos. (the door he _knows_ he used to stand in front of for ages on end, looking like he’d dissociated off to some other planet before snapping back to reality with an arsenal of new persona. he thinks he and akira used to be the only ones who could see it—now he wonders if akira can even see it at all.)

He knows the other’s hesitance towards using Arsène when he has other Persona that work just fine, that cover all their bases. He knows Akira doesn’t _have_ to use Arsène as much, due to Goro’s ability to swap between Loki and Robin Hood.

(he’d tried to ask him about it once, last march—asked why he hadn’t been using arsène as much as he used to, like he had in the fight against him in the engine room back during shido’s palace. akira’s response was only a cheeky wink and a stupid _because we have you now_ , but he _knows_ that arsène is the strongest persona akira has and could probably trump loki with enough training, so why?)

He hates doing this, but he hates not knowing even more.

Quietly, one day when Akira’s still working downstairs in LeBlanc and Goro happens to be working on his own work upstairs in the attic, he pulls up the MetaNav.

 _Akira Kurusu, leader of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts,_ he whispers into the MetaNav, trying not to drop his phone from the overwhelming onslaught of emotions he finds himself on the receiving end of as the MetaNav pings with a confirmative.

——

He doesn’t know how it got to this point, standing in LeBlanc after hours and having a screaming match with Akira when they’d been talking cordially for the past ten minutes.

“What, is this just- some fucking _game_ to you?!” Goro shouts, hands outstretched. One grabs Akira by his jacket, the other thrown angrily behind him with his fingers splayed. (he doesn’t hear the faint _ping_ in his back pocket.)

Akira only stares down at him with an amused sort of look on his face, eyebrows raised and an aloof grin on his face. “What, is it not?” he asks, voice full of mirth, and Goro screams. 

“I’m going to _kill you_!”

And to his shock, Akira _laughs_.

“I’d like to see you try, honey. You’ve failed twice already!” 

Goro takes a small step back, eyes wide as he stares at the teenager in front of him. His grip on Akira’s jacket falls lax. This isn’t- it can’t be-

He snarls, narrowing his eyes as he grabs hold of Akira’s jacket with both hands now, tightening his grip. “Third time’s the charm, _Joker_ , and I won’t fail.”

Akira’s expression doesn’t falter. He looks down at Goro with _amusement,_ as if this is all some sort of fucking game to him. 

His hands fall, resting on the hands Goro has clenching into his jacket, and he shoots the other a mischievous- no, that can’t be the right word, right?- look.

Goro freezes, eyes wide in a mixture of slowly dawning horror and fear as Akira learns in closer, their foreheads and noses almost touching.

“Good luck then, hm?”

And suddenly, Akira is just gone. Goro’s hands hold nothing but thin air, the warmth previously left by his boyfriend ripped away from him and leaving him metaphorically freezing in the cold. Akira’s gone, disappeared behind the counter, but Goro finally understands.

Akira’s been gone for a while.

——

It’ll be over soon, he thinks, staring down at the Treasure in his hand.

Of course, he thinks, letting out a tired laugh as the Palace crumbles around him.

Of course Akira’s Treasure was his mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ i often regret because i hesitate, i couldn't protect with my own hands  
>  every time you wipe your tears, you get stronger  
>  everyone's claiming what's right, blocking the expanding sky  
>  extend your fingers as much as possible, that streak shines _
> 
> _beyond my hope,  
>  wherever you can find the sun that i can be proud of  
>  keep going without thinking  
>  where is way to the unseen [tomorrow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m2eXg19DjPw)_
> 
> do i mean the joker mask or the crow mask >:) (originally, yes, it was joker's, but it's more fun to leave on an open ending like this)


	4. little dark age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mementos has never been kind to people like him, and he deserves it. it's never been safe for him to open up, to find comfort in other people (because relationships are flimsy and fallible and superficial and useless and), but maybe it would be okay to find comfort in someone else just this once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: roleswap & comfort!
> 
> oh GOD have i been wanting to post smth for ocean (twt user [@pkmngsc](https://twitter.com/pkmngsc)) and i's au on ao3 for ages!!! we started it back in may and have SO many google docs filled with either one-shots/drabbles or notes for our au and i. still need to update the new notes doc. ~~... after finals~~ (i may have also cheated this and copy/pasted the first half of this but it still holds up and i like it so fuck off it works just fine /j)
> 
> tw //  
> panic attack, mentions/allusions to 11/20, references to death/implied character death

He’s fine. This is fine! It’s perfectly _fucking_ fine.

It’s… okay, sure, it could be worse? It’s not like he hadn’t _expected_ something like this to happen, but it’s still _really uncomfortable_ being crammed in the back of the Monabus (it’s still incredibly uncomfortable how the cat turns into a _fucking bus_. like yeah sure he _knew_ that the thieves were getting around quickly in mementos and had _heard the damn car before_ but seriously?? _seriously?????_ ) in the same row as Goro and Ann.

Something rustles in the back of his mind and he swears for a moment he’s having an auditory hallucination because there’s absolutely no way he heard what he just did. No one else has seemed to notice or mention it, so… yeah. Yeah! Maybe he’s just hearing things.

He hopes that they manage to get out of Mementos in a timely manner, now that he thinks about it. He squints down at his lap, fidgeting with his gloves. He’d been growing tired faster as of late, which in itself was incredibly annoying because it cut down on the hours of the day that he had, and he had _work_ tomorrow.

Ugh. He’d call in sick or show up late if it weren’t for him needing to keep up appearances. He prides himself on never missing a day of work unless something came up absolutely _last minute_. 

But that had been a one-off occasion when he’d gotten incredibly sick and would have immediately been told to turn around and go home.

He hears the chains again and his eyebrows furrow, breath catching in his throat. This can’t be a coincidence. He notes Goro glancing over at him, probably wondering why he’s so tense.

“Hey, Oracle?” Akira tries, clearing his throat when he hears how unsettled he sounds. The girl in question pokes her head up, blinking owlishly as she meets Akira’s gaze. “How long have we been on this floor?”

She shrugs, making an ‘iunno’ sound, and flips her googles back over her eyes. He notes how she stiffens and he immediately swears under his breath, freezing up as well. “Yeah, uh, guys?” Her voice cracks slightly and the rest of the Thieves shift their attention to her. “We have a bit of a problem? We’ve been on this floor too long, and, uh…”

As if waiting for its cue, the sound of chains grows even heavier, and Akira grips the fabric of his pants to keep himself from doing anything stupid. He forces a breath and exhales, grip tightening ask Futaba continues speaking.

“Yeah. Reaper.”

It’d be ironic if Akira flinches at hearing Futaba say _Reaper_ , so he doesn’t flinch.

He hears Sakamoto swearing in the front of the bus, listens as Makoto says _something_ and turns the bus around in a jerking motion, and he wonders.

Are they about to fight it?

And then he remembers who he’s with and he nearly collapses in defeat because of _course_ these idiots would try and fight the Reaper. Even _if_ they’re strong enough to take it out—which they might be, but how would he know, he’s never fought the Reaper—it’s still an _incredibly reckless idea_ , and-

Oh, well, would you look at that. Makoto just tried to ambush the fucking Reaper with the Monabus.

(he’s more mad than anything else that it worked.)

They file out of the bus in a hurried frenzy and, as Akira stands in his place on Goro’s left, swallows back the bile that tries to rise and bites back the potential upcoming panic attack and he forces himself to _breathe_. It’s fine. This- it’ll be fine. He’s not by himself, the other Thieves—the _real_ Phantom Thieves, who are going to disband by the end of the month not because of his blackmail but because he’s going to _shoot their leader_ —are there and they can _fight_ , regardless of how exhausted they are! It’s fine.

Everything will be fine, he tries to tell himself, biting the inside of his bottom lip as he realizes his hands are shaking and that his brain isn’t computing correctly anymore. _It’s fine_ , he tries to tell himself as Goro sweeps a fast glance over the group before readying his stance. _Everything’s fine!_

This is fine this is fine this is fine this is fine this is _absolutely not fucking fine what the hell_ -

It feels like a switch had been flipped inside his brain because everything is _absolutely not okay_. He’s panicking, he can barely breathe, and the only thing he assumes keeping him together is his almost unshakeable work persona that he’d built from the ground up over the years of Shido’s training and his ‘job’ as a detective.

Even then… 

He’s nearly half tempted to blow his cover right then and there, to summon Satanael and reign _hell_ on the Shadow in front of him, Shido’s plan and Akira’s own revenge plot be damned, because _he has no fucking_ ** _clue_** _why seeing the Reaper is instilling this much fear into him it’s not normal it’s not_ ** _alright_** _it’s not it’s not it’s n_

“Joker!” someone snaps, and Akira’s head snaps over to the person who spoke, completely unaware of his shaking hands. It’s- Goro. Of course. Of _course_ it’s him, why would it _not_ be him, when is it ever _not_ him.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Akira hisses, trying more to convince himself than Goro. “I’d- rather just. Get this over with.” His left hand brushes past his waist, as if trying to grab a second weapon that doesn’t exist with this costume, and he bites back a curse. He tries to hone his attention on the beast in front of him, _ignoring the scream in the back of his mind that’s shouting for him to RUN GET OUT OF THERE,_ bites back an upcoming panic attack and forms his right hand into a tight fist around his dagger. He’s fine. This is fine!

It’s absolutely _not fucking fine_ , he realizes as his breathing becomes ragged, and he rips his mask off and shouts for Arsène, completely foregoing the Thieves’ typical strategy lineup because _why does it matter, none of this matters, i have to get ouT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT_ **_GET OUT G_ **

The fight’s a blur and he barely even registers when it ends until Goro grabs his wrist, forcing Akira around to face him and steps into his field of vision.

“What the hell was that about?” Goro snaps, narrowing his eyes, and, _oh_ , his mask is pushed up on his face so Akira can see how pissed off he is. Lovely. Just fucking wonderful! Why not! He’s fucked up this badly! (he doesn’t notice, or chooses to ignore, how _worried_ goro also looks. it’s just easier to focus on the rage when it’s all he’s used to.)

(he didn’t summon satanael during the fight, that’s the only thing he’s using to ground himself with, but he doesn’t know _why_ satanael was so infuriated during the fight because he’s normally _fine_ being left on the sidelines during the battles he has with the thieves because he knows he’ll be allowed to unleash hell later.)

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Akira says, trying to sound as cold and unnerved as possible. (he probably fails, based on the way goro’s glaring at him.)

Goro’s rattling off something, but Akira barely has enough energy to listen to him. He mentions the Reaper by name once, and Akira—ironically—finds himself involuntarily _flinching_ at that, and it apparently catches Goro’s attention.

Because, of course, why _not_. His entire existence is a joke at this point anyway. (suppose his codename makes sense, frankly. even if it's because of those quips he'd shoot at goro, solely to gauge his reaction, the codename suits him. because, wow, what a fucking joke his life has turned out to be.)

Goro heavily sighs and tries to collect himself, which in turn allows Akira to yank his wrist from Goro’s hold. “Look. What was that about?” he asks, sounding much more stressed yet eerily calm and _worried_ , and it grates on every last nerve Akira has.

“I don’t know,” Akira says as evenly as he can, narrowing his eyes down at Goro. At Goro’s raised eyebrow, silently suggesting that ‘hey, i don’t think you’re telling me the truth,’ Akira snaps, hands flailing. “I really don’t!”

And the worst thing of it all, is that he _really truly doesn’t know_. He doesn’t know _why_ he reacts this badly around the Reaper because he _doesn’t remember first meeting it._ He remembers the unnatural fear that creeps down his spine each time he hears the chains rustling, but by the time the Reaper even has the _chance_ to get close to him, Akira's already fled the scene.

The closest thing he even _has_ to an idea as to why he acts like… _this_ around it is due to the blank of time the day he Awakened Satanael, but that’s it. That’s _it_.

He doesn’t even really _owe_ Goro an explanation for what happened. The less his coworker knows about him, the better. (something within him screams that this is a lie, that he _wants_ to open up, but akira crushes the thought under the heel of his boot _immediately_. goro (and, by proxy, futaba) already knows _enough_ about him. it’s uncomfortable.)

Goro continues to hold his disbelieving stare and Akira forces his wrist out of Goro’s grasp. “I’m not lying to you,” Akira says as evenly as he can, thankful that his breathing has finally evened out. (or… started to. he can’t tell.)

He stares for a moment longer before sighing, slotting his mask back onto his face as he surveys Akira once more before turning back to the Monabus.

“Then let’s get out of here before that happens again.”

(for some reason, it stings more than akira would like to admit.)

* * *

He’s not even fully awake yet when he registers the blinding headache and the discomfort squeezing his chest. His alarm, screeching beside him, is absolutely no help in the matter either. He fumbles with his phone, taking longer than he’d like (especially due to his headache) before he can even _silence_ the damn thing.

The screen blinds him, hurting his eyes, and he has to slam it down onto his bed.

The screen is as dark as it could get, and there’s _light_ filtering into his room.

He groans in displeasure, curling into a tight ball under his covers. He feels frayed—wonders, briefly, if he has a fever, but after kicking a blanket or two back he realizes that he’s just overheating. 

Overall, he feels like _shit_ , and this is definitely not an optimal way to go into work.

He needs to, he chastises himself as he tries to force himself up. He has to go into work because if he doesn’t-

Well, for starters, he can’t even make it two steps away from his bed without the need to collapse. He shuffles back, defeatedly, to his bed and crawls back under its covers, squinting angrily as he pulls up his phone.

He narrows his eyes, scrolling through his incredibly short list of contacts.

He hits Sae’s and puts the phone on speaker as it rings.

Which, in hindsight, was probably a mistake, due to the ear-splitting headache he’s currently bearing. 

The call picks up after the second or third ring.

“ _Yes_?” comes a voice. Akira flinches.

“Hi,” he says, trying to sound professional, but ultimately failing. He clears his throat and sighs. “I’m sorry, Sae-san, but I… I have to call out today.”

His breathing immediately pauses, petrified for her response, and then-

“ _Is everything alright_?” 

The breath he was holding collapses out of his lungs. She isn’t mad.

_She isn’t mad._

“I’m just… feeling under the weather today,” he says, grimmancing once more at the grainy noise of Sae’s voice. “I’ll be back tomorrow, I’m just… unsure, how I could be of any use today in my current position.”

Sae remains silent on the other side of the phone for a moment before sighing. “ _That’s alright, Kurusu-kun_ ,” she says gently, and something in Akira unfolds. “ _Please take care of yourself. If you’re able, I’ll see you tomorrow_.”

“Thank you,” he says, as the call drops.

He stares silently at his wall for a moment in complete and utter silence, before clicking his phone off and turning away from the window and wall.

Sleeping would help.

——

He finally feels a little less like death a few hours later. He still has a headache—not nearly as bad now—and still feels discomfort in his chest, but it’s nearly an invisible feeling now. He does, however, take precautionary measures and takes a couple of pills to help his headache.

He’s leaving the bathroom to return to his room and continue lying in bed for the next several hours when a knock resounds at the door, and Akira squints, staring at it in suspicion. There’s not many—if any at all—who know where he lives. At most, he thinks maybe Sae-san is the only one who knows. (he doubts her sister would know or even care enough to ask, so it’s easy enough to rule niijima-junior out.)

The person knocks again, and Akira slowly, carefully, begins to take a few steps forward. He manages to make it over to the door, looks through the peephole-

He sighs in frustration and slams his head against the door.

Horrible idea, really, because it does _nothing_ to help his headache.

The person on the other side of the door doesn’t bother to cover up his snort.

Sighing in defeat, Akira unlocks his door and shuffles back just enough for the intruder to slip through. He eyes the plastic bags warily as he carefully shuts the door behind him.

“How’d you find where I live,” he mumbles, shooting a muted glare at the extra pair of shoes now sitting in the foyer. “Was it Sae-san?”

Goro snorts, setting the bags down on the counter. “Sure,” he says lightly, shooting Akira an amused look. “Let’s go with that.”

That more than likely means that Akira does _not_ want to know how Goro Sakura found his way to his doorstep. In his befuddled state, he doesn’t even try arguing with the other.

“What-” He stares at the bags, standing awkwardly in his own fucking apartment as Goro begins pulling things out of the bags. “What are you doing.”

“Bringing you food,” Goro says nonchalantly, shrugging, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

(maybe it is for him, but akira-)

“Besides…” He looks a little more sheepish, hands freezing around a small thing of tupperware. “Sae-san told me you called out today and I wanted to make sure everything was okay, and I kinda figured, what with everything that happened yesterday…”

Akira cannot wait to kill him.

Instead of voicing anything, Akira only sighs in frustration and walks quietly over to the counter, slumping onto one of the barstools. He narrows his eyes at the tupperware.

“Oh, it’s curry.”

“Why.”

Goro shrugs. “Dad always makes some for Futaba and I whenever we’re not feeling great.”

“I can feed myself,” Akira grumbles. And it’s true—not like he ever actually has the time to actually cook, but… 

“Sucks,” Goro fires back.

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who only knows how to make curry,” Akira says, wincing slightly at the sudden squawk of indigence that his unwanted houseguest is suddenly making.

“I can make other things-”

“I’m sure you can,” he mumbles, in a half-assed effort to only appeal to Goro, burying his face into his folded-up arms. “But please stop being so loud.”

He can’t see it, but Goro relaxes immediately, as if realizing or remembering that Akira Kurusu called out of work sick for the first time he’d known him.

“So it _is_ because of what happened yesterday in Mementos, isn’t it?” Goro asks, voice suddenly softer. Something slides across the counter and Akira feels a lukewarm tupperware gently bounce against his elbow.

“Shut up.” He prays Goro takes the hint. 

The seconds stretch on, becoming tenser with each subtle _tick_ of the clock Akira always forgets he has in his apartment. Finally, Goro caves and quietly sighs.

“I’m not leaving,” he says, and Akira groans.

He wants him to. He _wants_ Goro to leave, because people caring about him feels _wrong_ , because people _comforting_ him—him! _him_ of all people!—feels misplaced and forced and wrong wrong _wrong_ because

Because

because.

(white snow stained red, glasses creaking ever so slightly under the weight of his grip, the cold settling into his lungs as he heaves and screams and cries-)

His hands clench the fraying fabric of his hoodie. The only person who ever truly cared for him and comforted him is _dead_ and that’s just what happens to people who _care about him._

It’s _exactly_ what’s going to happen to Goro Sakura in less than two weeks.

“Akira?” Goro says gently, in a similar tone that he used to hear all the time when he was a child, waking up from nightmares. Goro sighs. “I won’t force you to talk about anything.”

“Thank you,” Akira murmurs into his arms, muffled by the countertop. 

“I will, however, force you up from the counter.”

What.

“We don’t have to leave your apartment if that’s not something you don’t wish to do,” Goro continues on, like he’s not dropping some sort of fucking bombshell on Akira at this moment. “But it’s probably better for you to just-”

“What, not be alone?” Akira snarks, rolling his eyes under the safety of his arms. 

He can’t see it, but he’s pretty sure Goro is giving him a _look_ right now. “Yes,” he says blandly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

And maybe it is. Maybe it should be.

Maybe it’d be okay for Akira to let someone in, just for a little bit, so he doesn’t have to be afraid for a little while.

He sighs in defeat, slowly sliding off his chair. The glasses sitting on his face have fogged up. “Fine.”

Akira isn’t looking, but he swears the atmosphere in the apartment brightens.

And, because he remembers that it’s up to _him_ what they do, “I’d. rather not go outside.” He finally finds himself on his feet, eyes downcast and pointedly looking anywhere other than Goro. “Staying in would be better.”

Goro seems to relax at that. “Good to know,” he says gently, as another bag rustles. Akira squints, glancing up to see-

“Is that… Featherman?”

Goro shifts slightly, gaze darting down to the bag he’d pulled the movie from, and- oh. _Oh._ Oho.

A sly grin creeps across Akira’s face. (he can’t say much, but any chance to tease the other is worth it.) “What, are you a Featherman fan?” he asks, leaning forward slightly. He raises his eyebrows, shooting Goro an amused look.

“I-” He sputters, trying to find some ground to stand on and argue his point, only to slump his shoulders in defeat with a half-annoyed expression on his face as Akira begins to double-over in laughter. “Oh, fuck off,” he grumbles, face turning a light shade of pink.

“Says the one intruding in _my_ apartment,” Akira snipes back lightly. He reaches out for one of the cases, turns it on its back, and swallows past the lump in his throat. “Who’s…”

“It’s Futaba’s collection,” Goro says, face still pink as he begins to move over to the sofa. He doesn’t seem to notice Akira’s predicament, which is… good. “I just… maybe borrowed it from her.”

Akira forces a small laugh, trying to hide the grimmance that crosses his face as he flips the case back over. “She doesn’t know you have it, does she? You really _are_ a thief.”

His silence is enough of an answer.

“Do you have any blankets?”

So is his avoidance.

“I do,” Akira says, deciding to play along. He places the case carefully in the rest of the season-based stack and disappears into his room.

Moments later, the two are on the sofa, blankets wrapped around themselves in mock cocoons with warmed up curry. The two lean into each other, letting their walls down for once as the incredibly cheesy intro for the first Featherman season plays on Akira’s TV screen.

Without realizing it, his head is resting on Goro’s shoulder and his eyes are closed, breathing evening out.

(when he wakes, hours later, goro is still there, and akira… he doesn’t know how to feel, wondering if goro would still extend this sort of sentimentality and care that he shows now should he find out about his plan. about what’s going to happen at the end of sae’s palace.)

(he forces himself to stop thinking about it and lets his eyes fall closed once more, lulled back to sleep, surrounded by the most warmth and comfort he’s felt in a long time.)

* * *

He bites down on his fist, ignoring the shards of glass littering his bathroom sink and the specks of blood on the once-pristine countertop. Ignores the blood on his hand—metaphorically, literally.

He can’t look at his reflection, knowing what he’d see if he does.

The two people he’s ever grown to find comfort in are gone, and it’s all because of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i grieve in stereo_  
>  _the stereo sounds strange_  
>  _i know that if you hide_  
>  _it doesn't go away_  
>  _if you get out of bed_  
>  _and find me standing all alone_  
>  _open-eyed_  
>  _burn the page_  
>  _my[little dark age](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETEg-SB01QY)_


	5. circles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> seasons change, time continues to pass, but goro akechi will always mean something to akira kurusu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: seasons
> 
> *inhales* sEASONS CHANGE AND OUR LOVE WENT COLD yeah ok anyway  
> this isn't as long as i originally wanted it to be but!! it's still pretty decently long (it's just over 1.9k words according to google docs!) so i'm not too disappointed! 
> 
> also, spoilers for third sem!!
> 
> tw //  
> mentions of both 11/20 and the engine room, implied/alluded character death (but not really!)

I. summer.

He watches, curiously, behind a neutral expression. The teenager in front of him rambles on—something about Hegel, he believes—but Akira isn’t paying as much attention as he should be. 

Something about Goro Akechi seems familiar, in the way that Ann and Ryuji and Morgana and Yusuke do. It’s harder to tell. It feels like it’s buried under many, many layers and masks, but _something_ feels familiar.

He notes the left-handed handshake, drops his hand as he watches Akechi walk away with a promise to talk to him later. (akira wonders how, once he snaps back to reality enough to realize that they didn’t exchange chat ids.)

Something seems strange about him. He doesn’t seem normal, despite what Akira can easily assume are his best efforts. Maybe it’s a Wildcard thing that lets Akira see something as particular as this.

Maybe it’s that Akira finds it strange Akechi may have heard Morgana speaking yesterday.

Ryuji and Ann rejoin him, chatting aimlessly about something or another, and Akira finds himself unable to pay attention.

_Justice, rank one,_ his mind supplies when he tries to find his now-apparent bond with the teenage detective.

Ryuji calls after him, both he and Ann studying him curiously, and Akira shakes his head and follows his blond friends, hands buried in his pockets.

He doesn’t know much about Goro Akechi, but he can’t wait to learn more.

* * *

II. fall.

Every crack he manages to chip into Goro Akechi’s facade is a delightful victory.

He knows some of it may be strategic planning on Akechi’s end. However, he also wonders how much of his accidental oversharing is due to him _finally_ having a friend his age, someone that he can relate to and spend time with outside of work.

Someone who doesn’t care that he’s the “Second Coming of the Detective Prince.”

He stands behind the LeBlanc bar, moving a black chess piece on the board as his companion sips quietly at his coffee.

It’s noticeable—to Akira, at least—how much Akechi has let his walls down around him, and it feels… nice. It’s also nice, in Akira’s honest opinion, that he doesn’t have to try and settle into some sort of _mask_ like he does for everyone else.

(that’s not to say it wasn’t absolutely _terrifying_ at first—he was never sure what, exactly, akechi would like to hear, but he finds he doesn’t have to put in nearly as much effort. he’s free to just be _himself_ —just akira kurusu, not the wildcard and leader of the phantom thieves.)

He’s grateful for their strengthening bond. He’s not entirely sure _how_ to put it into words—maybe it’s just nice seeing Akechi act his age, not having to hold up the mature, adult persona that the adults want from him.

It’s a losing game, he notes, glancing back down at the chessboard. Within two moves, Akechi will probably corner him into a checkmate.

“Checkmate,” Akechi says, a triumphant look on his face three moves later. He glances up at Akira, meeting his expression. “You’re catching up.”

Akira wonders if he means something other than chess. Wonders if their games of chess are really just _that_ , or a metaphor for something bigger and larger than they are.

“I have a good teacher,” he says, shooting Akechi a stupid grin. The other rolls his eyes in amusement, as he tends to do whenever Akira says something like this.

“Yes, well.” His gaze flickers over to the storefront and he winces, pulling his phone out. “Ah, my apologies. I hadn’t realized it was this late.” 

Akira frowns, taking the now-empty mug from where Akechi sits. “Boss is fine with you staying after, you know,” he says, gently placing the mug in the sink to clean later. “We might have time for one more game before the trains stop running.”

To no surprise, Akechi only shakes his head. “Sorry, I have a busy day tomorrow.” He offers Akira a small smile—one he’s understanding is different from his plastic, TV-ready smile. “I’ll take a raincheck on that rematch, though.” A competitive look sparks behind his eyes, and Akira grins.

“I’ll be here.”

A week later, Akechi has blackmailed his way onto the Phantom Thieves, and Akira can’t say he’s surprised.

By the start of November, Akira knows his feelings circulating Akechi, and it only makes things worse. He knows what Akechi’s planning. He knows that he’s supposed to die by his hands after they complete Sae’s Palace, but he can’t stop himself from running after Akechi, wondering if there’s anything he can do to subtly change his mind.

He finds it silly— _terrifying_ —, the amount of _trust_ he has in Goro Akechi, the person who’s about to betray him in a week’s time. He knows he shouldn’t trust him—Futaba and Morgana and Ryuji and everyone else are around enough and try to shake _some_ inkling of sense into him, trying to get him to understand that he _has_ to stop hanging out with Akechi.

But he can’t, and he doesn’t. (his excuse is always “he’d know something was up if i stopped hanging out with him.”)

Between outings to the Jazz Jin, late night chess matches in LeBlanc, and random hang out sessions, he finds himself falling further and further for Goro Akechi.

They have their duel in Mementos, and Akira clutches the glove in his pocket as tight as he can. He knows, now, that Akechi is probably serious. But he can’t find Akechi’s hatred towards him being the entire truth, either.

Two weeks later, Akira is dead to the world.

* * *

III. winter.

On December 13th, Goro Akechi had sealed himself behind a partition wall, sealing him to his fate.

On December 24th, Akira Kurusu watched as Goro Akechi walked up to him and Sae, offering to turn himself in as the perpetrator behind both the mental shutdowns and breakdowns, letting Akira walk free.

Both times, Akira finds himself sitting on the edge of his bed and staring into his hands.

The first time, he’d been on the verge of tears. (he thinks he did break down. he can’t remember.)

The second time, he stared down at his hands in elation, because _Goro Akechi was alive_. He’d failed to save him, but he was there and alive and-

And he shows up in LeBlanc on January 2nd, drags him out to the laundromat down the street, and tells him to talk.

He’s never been one to say no to Akechi. 

He asks about Akechi, how he managed to survive the cognitive double and escape Shido’s ship, and Akechi just crosses his arms and shakes his head.

“You really have no faith in me, do you?” he asks, sighing as Akira’s phone begins ringing. (and maybe that should've been his first clue, that something was up. but he was blinded by the prospect of akechi being back that he doesn't care.)

And so, the two (or, three, if he counts Kasumi) set off, traversing the strange Palace Akira, Morgana, and Kasumi had stumbled upon back in October.

Only to find out that Kasumi is really _Sumire_ and that he and Akechi are stuck on their own to clear parts of the Palace until Akira can get his friends to snap back into the true reality.

Stupidly enough, he still tries to spend time with Akechi during the week they have.

He notices how Akechi keeps trying to shove him away, holding him at an arm’s length, and Akira doesn’t understand.

Not until Maruki spells it out for him, at least.

Blood pounds harshly in his ears and he can barely feel himself as he and Akechi begin arguing.

_“It’s not TRIVIAL!” he shouts, praying that the tears he knows are in his eyes don’t fall._

_“Yes. it. IS!” Akechi counters, fists clenching at his sides._

Akira wishes more than anything he’d reached out, pulled Akechi to him and held him until the other understood _how much he meant to him_ , but Akira stands still and swears that they’ll be stopping Maruki.

He watches as Akechi leaves, and he breaks down in LeBlanc once he knows he’s alone.

* * *

IV. spring.

He takes a deep breath, walking around the old places he used to hang out—either with his Confidants or his friends or (he stops himself immediately)—and finds himself outside of the Jazz Jin.

The conversation he has with Muhen tugs at his heart, and he grips the glove in his pocket as tight as possible as he promises the club owner something he’s not entirely sure he can keep.

He catches a glimpse of something, outside the window on the train, and he nearly jumps off the train to chase after it.

The train kicks off, slowly pulling out of the station, and Akira grips his pants, eyes wide as he stares out the window at the moving scenery and prays to the gods he doesn’t believe in that Goro Akechi is still alive.

Time passes, of course. He spends his time helping out in his father’s flower shop (thankful to be back at this one—rafflesia was fine and all, but there’s something _different_ about his papa’s). He does his best to stay on top of his schoolwork, even though the people in his class send him side eyes and only go up and talk to him to either ask about the Phantom Thieves (and _boy_ would he love to see their reaction if they were to ever find out that _he_ , the infamous delinquent Akira Kurusu, was the leader of the group) or talk about school.

It’s a decent Saturday afternoon. He’s helping out at the flower shop (really, he’s the one looking after it—there’s another employee somewhere in the back, and while his papa is at the cash register, he looks a little out of it. he’s probably half asleep, akira reckons), mostly to kill time.

Something outside catches his eye and he frowns, glancing up.

He freezes, grip loosening on the empty vase he’s holding as he locks eyes with someone across the street.

The glove in his pocket feels heavy; a sudden weight he’s forced to acknowledge. 

_“Where are you from, Kurusu-kun?” Akechi asks, staring with lidded eyes over his coffee as he takes a sip. “You never talk about yourself. I feel bad, haha- usually, I tend to end up rambling around you.”_

_He blinks in surprise, slightly amused. “What, you didn’t read it on my record?” he teases, covering his mouth to laugh as Akechi sputters, quickly covering his mouth and setting the coffee down so he doesn’t spill anything._

_“I-”_

_“I’m only joking, Detective,” he says, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Mostly." He figures Akechi would have read it; the other doesn't seem like he's lying, but... "I’m from Inaba, actually.”_

_“Inaba, huh?” Akechi murmurs, bringing a hand to his chin as he thinks. “You must get a lot of questions about that, then, if you lived there during the string of murders.”_

Had he remembered?

It can’t be him though. It has to be a coincidence.

Why would he come out _here_?

But that doesn’t stop the vase he was holding from slipping out of his hands, doesn’t stop him from darting out of his father’s flower shop, ignoring the startled cries after him, and racing through the streets as the person he swears he knows balks and darts in a different direction.

Akira reaches out, grabbing the person’s arm. He forces the person to turn around, forces his breathing to slow down.

He stares, eyes wide as he slowly takes in the person in front of him, and finds himself moving on autopilot. He lurches forward, trapping Goro Akechi within his arms, and buries his face in his neck. He barely pays attention to the sudden hitched breath, only squeezes tighter when he feels arms awkwardly embracing him.

He ignores the tears in his eyes and clenches the back of Akechi’s jacket, trying to hold him as tight as humanly possible, feeling comforted when the other does the same.

He knows Goro Akechi pretty well now, but he can’t wait to get to know him even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i couldn't be there_  
>  _even when i try_  
>  _you don't believe it_  
>  _we do this every time_  
>    
> _seasons change and our love went cold_  
>  _feed the flame 'cause we can't let go_  
>  _run away, but we're running in circles_  
>  _run away, run away_  
>  _i dare you to do something_  
>  _i'm waiting on you again_  
>  _so i don't take the blame_  
>  _run away, but we're running in circles_  
>  _run away, run away,[run away](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wXhTHyIgQ_U)_  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> as always, find me on [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/lost.lapis/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/spacedlamp)!


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